They’ve always had to steal it from us.”
“We’ll make them believe us,” Thunder insisted. He was determined for this plan to work. “If we grovel to Slash, he’ll enjoy our humiliation so much he won’t bother wondering whether we’re telling the truth.”
Lightning Tail grunted. “You must really want to see the rogue camp if you’re willing to grovel to Slash.”
Thunder lifted his muzzle, sniffing for prey. “With any luck, we won’t be seen, and we won’t have to grovel to any cat.” He stiffened as he smelled mouse. Perhaps the stars were on their side after all.
In this long, hungry quarter moon, he had almost begun to think their ancestors had stopped watching over them. He pricked his ears as Lightning Tail followed his gaze. “It smells like there’s a mouse nest under that bramble.”
Lightning Tail dropped into a crouch and stalked toward the tangled bush.
Thunder dropped low and, belly brushing the leafy forest floor, began to make a wide circle around the bush. “You flush them out, and I’ll catch what you miss.” He stopped behind the bush and waited for Lightning Tail to make his move.
The brambles rustled. Squinting in the afternoon sunlight, Thunder could see Lightning Tail’s black pelt squirming beneath the branches. The mouse scent was warm and strong. Thunder licked his lips. Leaves swished as Lightning Tail darted deeper into the bush.
Frightened squeaks pierced Thunder’s ear fur. He scanned the ground for movement. Brown fur flashed to one side. Thunder leaped, thorns snagging his pelt, and slammed his paws down onto the soft body of a fleeing mouse. He hooked his claws around it and drew it close for a killing bite.
The musky scent made his mouth water. Should they take their catch home? Thistle and Clover were starting to look thin. No. I have to see the rogues’ camp. We’ll take our catch home when we’ve seen it. Thunder sat up as Lightning Tail padded toward him. A dead mouse dangled from his jaws.
Thunder purred. “Come on. Let’s head for the pines.” He scooped his mouse up and headed away.
Crossing the Thunderpath was easy. There was no sign of monsters. The pine forest beyond felt gloomy after the oaks. The trees here still had their thick needle pelts, and little sunlight filtered through the canopy. How could Tall Shadow and her cats bear to live in such gloom? The smell of pinesap filled his nose, drowning the warm scent of mouse. He was relieved as the trees thinned and he saw marshland ahead. He stopped at the edge of the forest. Behind him, the sun was sinking fast, throwing long shadows across the tussocks of grass.
Lightning Tail stopped behind him and dropped his mouse. He nodded toward a stretch of trees crowding a slope at one edge of the marshland. “Is that the willow copse?”
The bare branches looked like willow, and there were no other trees beyond the pines. It must be the right place. Nodding, he carried his mouse from the cover of the pines. He followed the trail as it grew muddy underpaw. Lightning Tail’s paw steps squelched behind him. Scanning the marshland, Thunder saw a patch of thick grass and reeds.
He dropped his mouse. “That’s it,” he whispered. Gray Wing had described the camp. A ring of grass near willows.
“How are we going to spy on the rogues without being seen?” Lightning Tail stopped beside him and blinked over the tussocks.
Thunder nodded toward the camp. “There are plenty of reeds to hide in.” He grabbed his mouse and slunk forward, ears pricked.
Lightning Tail crept behind him.
Thunder held his breath as they neared. Rogue smells mingled with the damp evening air. Relief prickled through his pelt as the sun dipped behind the pines and shadow swallowed the marsh. He ducked lower, moving like a snake over the earth until he reached a clump of reeds. He slipped past them and slid between two tussocks.
He stiffened as he heard voices from the marsh grass beyond. They were right outside the camp wall!
He laid his mouse on the ground and signaled to Lightning Tail with his muzzle to do the same.
Lightning Tail dropped his mouse on top of Thunder’s and blinked at his friend. “What now?” he whispered.
“We wait.” Thunder pressed his belly to the earth and flattened his ears. Stiff marsh grass surrounded them. Lightning Tail’s flank felt warm against his as the black tom wriggled down beside him.
“Look!” Lightning Tail’s mew was barely more than a whisper. He was staring at the grass wall of the camp. Narrow gaps showed near the roots, and as the sun disappeared and moonlight bathed the marshland, Thunder saw the rogues’ clearing glowing beyond the stems. Heart pounding, he squirmed closer until he could see a wide stretch of earth in the middle of the camp. Cats moved at the edges, murmuring in soft voices. Paw steps scuffed the earth nearby, and sleek, dark gray fur blocked his view. He smelled the fragrant scent of a she-cat and peered closer.
“Here!” A tom’s mew rang across the camp, and something thudded on the earth beside the she-cat. She hopped out of the way. Thunder could see a scrawny starling on the ground. The she-cat sniffed at it, and Thunder saw the delicate outline of her muzzle. Her amber gaze rested, dismayed, on the starling. Then she jerked her head toward a tom at the center of the clearing.
Slash!
Thunder recognized the white slash across the forelegs of the mangy brown rogue.
The she-cat curled her lip. “We’ve got better prey than this,” she hissed.
Slash eyed her coldly. “You’re lucky you’re getting anything, Violet,” he snarled. “You’re the weakest hunter in the group.”
“That’s not true!” Violet snapped back. “And at least I hunt. You steal.”
Slash’s ears twitched. “I’m just taking what’s mine.”
“You wouldn’t be like this if Rain were still alive!”
Thunder heard grief thicken the she-cat’s mew.
Slash snorted. “What difference would Rain have made? He was so dumb he got killed on a
Thunderpath.”
Violet flinched. “He was never dumb!”
“Taking you as a mate was the only smart decision he ever made.” Slash’s mew grew suspiciously soft. Thunder narrowed his eyes. The rogue leader was gazing hungrily at the she-cat.
“Why don’t you get smart, Violet, and let me take his place? You would not go hungry if you were a leader’s mate.”
“Never!” Violet picked up the starling and stalked away.
Thunder’s claws itched. How dare Slash try to bully this beautiful she-cat into becoming his mate? He felt Lightning Tail move beside him. “Why do they stay loyal to such a fox-heart?”
Thunder didn’t answer. He was watching Violet. Her fur had the rich darkness of storm clouds.
Her long tail was thick and sleek. Her ears were wide and soft, framing her pretty face perfectly. The fur prickled along his spine as she padded toward a group of cats who were crouching in the shadows at the far side of the clearing.
Movement caught Thunder’s eye. Slash was heading toward a large prey pile. Thunder’s belly felt hollow with hunger as he saw pigeons stacked on top of rabbits. Mice and shrews were strewn around the edge. Slash plucked a skinny frog from the bottom of the pile and flung it toward one of the cats beside Violet. Then he tossed a dried shrew to another. One piece at a time, he flung the scrawniest prey to his campmates. Then he flicked his tail toward two toms, who had been silently watching the camp from the head of the clearing.
“Splinter! Come and choose your meal.”
A black-and-white tom hurried toward the prey pile, licking his lips. “Go ahead, Splinter.”
Slash’s mew was indulgent. “You’ve done well today. You deserve something good to eat.”